A caravan by the sea, when you are not sure this will work — for a night when you do not want to think

The story, in full

A clock on the wall ticks with a slight rattle on every second. The caravan rocks very slightly in the wind, which is more comforting than it sounds. The whole caravan smells of salt, gas and clean bedding.

There is a gas ring, a kettle, and two cups, one of which is a different pattern. The wind pushes against the side of the caravan in long, slow gusts. There is a torch by the door in case you need to walk to the toilets in the night.

Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Let your hands be completely still.

Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it.

The window over the sink has a small crack in the corner that has been there for years. The sea is about fifty metres away, over a bank of shingle.

Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.

Let your calves spread out and flatten. Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress.

Everything you need is within two metres of where you are lying. You can hear the shingle moving as the waves pull back.

Let the mattress take all of it. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.

The bed folds out of the seating area and takes up most of the floor. The curtains are thin, and the moon makes a pale rectangle on the floor.

Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up.

If you're judging your performance, that's the same habit as judging everything else. If you feel restless, that's a feeling, not a failure.

Let your ribs stop working so hard. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.

Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet.

They will find their own way out. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last. Let your breathing do the rest.

Slower now. Stay with the weight of your body. Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer.

Not being sure it will work is a perfectly good reason to try it once.

Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.

18 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for sea, simple.